


Your voice is my home

by ratonzita



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Female Stiles, Human Stiles, Pack, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 16:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratonzita/pseuds/ratonzita
Summary: Stiles' singing helps Derek realize some things, along with the latest threat to the pack.





	Your voice is my home

It was a calm day. They were enjoying lunch and making fun of each other at school. Lydia kept rolling her eyes at them and hiding her smile in a book. Allison and Kira couldn’t stop laughing. Malia seemed lost at times, but Kira explained her everything. Isaac was smirking. Stiles joked about anything and everything. And Scott was beaming.

However, the smile was replaced on Scott’s face by a frown. He started shrugging continuously as if he had an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. His eyes flashed and they all stopped.

“Buddy, what’s wrong?” asked Stiles.

Scott shook his head. “I don’t know? I feel weird.”

He started growling low, increasing by seconds. Stiles took a diplomatic decision. “Malia, Allison, take him out. Isaac, call Derek and Cora. Kira and Lydia keep a lookout.”

“And you?” asked Lydia.

“I’m going to distract and misdirect.” She winked and ordered hardly a second later. “Go.” Heads were starting to turn. Stiles stood on the table and stomped a rhythm. Once she had most eyes on her, she let her voice and hips take over. “ _Come on, come on, turn the radio on. It’s Friday night and I won’t be long..._ ”

The lyrics to _Cheap Thrills_ by Sia came out. Stiles danced and sang like she hadn’t done in eight years. Her whole body was into it, breathing in again, awakening. She could feel herself growing confident. Her dance became a bit bolder. It was enough for Allison and Malia to take Scott outside with the least spectators. Just as she was in the middle of the song, Harris pulled her down roughly.

“Where do you think you are? A cabaret?” he hissed and started guiding her out of the cafeteria.

Her cell phone vibrated then. Lydia texted they weren’t clear yet. Stiles did the obvious. She shook off Harris’ hand and stepped back up on another table.

“ _Is it too late now to say sorry? ‘Cause I’m missing more than just your body_.” As she couldn’t remember what else came, she switched to _Side to side_ by Ariana Grande. “ _I’ve been here all night. I’ve been here all day. And boy, you got me walking side to side._ Let the hoes know. _I’m talking to ya…_ ”

She took off her plaid and her hips became sinful. She could only sing a bit more among the whistles and catcalls when Coach Finstock came to help Harris get her down and out. The cheers when the doors closed behind them were loud. She was dragged to an empty classroom, was shoved her plaid and forcibly sat down to listen to a combined monologue without much sense. The gist of it was that it was no place to do what she had done. She shrugged, put on her plaid and rolled her eyes, still high on the singing. Listening or not, she was going to get detention.

Indeed, she got a week’s worth.

When the bell rang, she didn’t go to classes. Instead, she went out to the lacrosse field and off to the woods. The adrenaline was still in her system, preventing her from fully realizing what she’d done in the cafeteria. Derek was waiting by the edge.

“How is he?”

“Knocked out. He was losing control,” Derek’s scowl deepened. “Your singing startled him out of it for a moment. But when you stopped, he lost it faster. Malia and I took him out. He’s been taken to Deaton in Lydia’s car.”

“Ok. Let’s go there. Help me grab our stuff quickly.”

Derek nodded. Even though Stiles’ heartbeat was out of control, she seemed to be calm. They infiltrated the school easily and recovered their belongings. They were almost done when a guy called Stiles. She pushed Derek to a janitor’s room and greeted the stranger.

“Yeah?” she asked confused and hurried.

“You know… you have a great voice.”

“Um, thanks? Look, I’m in a-“

“It will sound a lot better when you’re screaming my name, though.” The guy got closer. Stiles gaped and took a step back.

“I- Dude, what? I don’t even know you!”

“So? The name’s Joshua.” He took a step closer and grabbed her face to whisper in her ear. “I’ll make you remember.” He walked away.

Stiles was bewildered. It had been creepy and random as fuck. Derek opened the door behind her, making her stumble. He cleared his voice.

“Not a word, Hale. Let’s go to Scott.”

Derek grunted and followed her out to the Jeep. They threw the backpacks into the backseat. Stiles huffed while shutting her door.

“Can you believe that guy?” She started the Jeep.

Derek crossed his arms and looked out the window. “It would have worked if you were attracted to him.”

“Would have not! And he wasn’t even hot!” She drove out of the parking lot.

“He was.”

“What? What do you know? You’re ace.”

“I’m not,” he frowned.

“Well, in celibacy. Almost the same thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “Pull over.”

“What? Why?” she asked as she stopped near the woods, looking out for any danger. But as Derek wasn’t doing the same, she blinked at him in confusion.

“I’ll prove it works.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Wanna bet?” He smirked.

She narrowed her eyes. Derek always rejected her bets. “I’m listening.”

“If I can make you squirm with that line, you’ll have to sing to me.”

Stiles’ heartbeat kept its rapid rhythm. She licked her lips. “And if I win?”

“I’ll cook for you whatever you want,” he shrugged.

Stiles thought about it. Really thought about it. The downfall was singing, something she rarely did (read never) because it reminded her too much of her mom. Today had been a bleep, a necessity, as she couldn’t figure out something else to do in a second. The upside was a meal made by Derek, who cooked like a god. Even when she had a massive crush the size of the universe for him, there was no way a line like that could work. Right?

“Deal.” They pinky swore. “Come at me.”

“I never agreed to do it right now.”

She groaned. “Are you for real?”

“You’re mentally prepared right now. I have to catch you off guard,” Derek shrugged.

“I’m as ready as a lioness.” He snorted. “Hey! I am!”

“Sure. Whatever makes you sleep better.”

She rolled her eyes and started up the Jeep again. Suddenly Derek was in her space with a barely-there touch to her cheek, forcing her to look out front. His lips were almost touching her ear when he whispered in a rough voice. “Stiles… you have a _beautiful_ voice… and I know it’ll sound better…” he licked his lips and she felt it in her bones. “…when you’re screaming my name tonight.”

He then turned her face towards his. They were inches apart, staring at each other. Stiles always tried to pinpoint Derek’s eye color and came up with a different one each time. However, before she could even breathe again, he smirked and let her go. Stiles was blushing hard.

“I win.”

“I- You- You tricked me, cheater.”

“You didn’t put any rules.”

She punched him, trying to get her heart under control. Derek could probably hear it loud and clear, as well as smell her arousal. She gulped. Now he knew she was attracted to him; although he probably had always known, hence the proposed bet. Yet what really sent her almost into a frenzy was realizing she now had to sing to him. She bit her lip. Even though she had definitely enjoyed the singing back there (and having Derek close for a moment), she was starting to come down of it. How could she just sing like that, out of the seven-year-old dry spell and in front of everybody? Only the worry about Scott and an impending threat prevented her from a full-blown panic attack.

“You don’t have to sing to me right now. Do it when you feel like it,” he whispered after what felt a lifetime later to Stiles. She breathed easier and nodded.

“And because you cheated, you still have to cook for me.”

Derek hid his grin. “Fine.”

By the time they got to the clinic, Scott was up and dandy. He was sitting up on the table with Allison between his legs slowly caressing his arms. When he looked at Stiles, he had a question in his eyes she couldn’t handle then and there.

“You, shush. You,” she pointed at Deaton, “explain.”

Deaton hummed, rearranged some vials full of strange herbs and liquids, and then answered. “Scott was hit by a spell.”

Isaac frowned. “We didn’t sense a witch or anything. Scott just suddenly started growling.”

Deaton nodded. “That is quite a feat.”

They waited for something else from him, but nothing came forward. Stiles raised an eyebrow, uncrossed her arms and gesticulated wildly, almost hitting Derek. “And…? How do we take her out? Protect our wolves, coyote, and kitsune? Can this witch get Lydia? How does the spell work?”

Deaton hummed considering and calculating. “The spell unsettles the anchor if it is not stable enough. Scott won’t have a problem now. The rest of you, however, must look inward and commune with your anchors, fully embracing them.” He gave a pointed look to Derek so briefly only Derek noticed. “Otherwise… it’ll get you all.”

Stiles did a recount. Scott’s anchor was Allison. Kira’s was her family. Malia’s was the whole pack. Isaac’s was Cora and his eager need to love and be loved. Cora’s was her own self and both Isaac and Derek. Lydia didn't need one per se. And Derek’s, last time Stiles checked, was anger. But he had seemed tamer and calmer since his wolf evolution. Maybe it had changed.

“If we stay together at all times, we’ll reduce risks and sole targeting,” Lydia reasoned. Stiles nodded along.

“Yeah, I agree. No one moves alone. After school, we’ll all stay at someone’s to investigate, we’ll rotate.” Stiles patted Derek’s arm. “Cora will go to school with us, and Derek will go back to creeping school grounds.” Derek huffed and pushed her slightly. She laughed. “Any clues as to how to kick her ass, doc?”

“You already know how to off a witch. There are plenty effective human ways to do it, as history tells us. To find her, well… that’s a different matter.” Stiles gestured for him to go on. “Given the spell’s undetected nature, I’d say this witch is quite capable of hiding herself completely.”

“So we’re screwed?” Cora growled.

“You’ll have to wait for her to act and make a mistake.”

“Or,” Scott frowned with his serious thinking face, “we make her make a mistake.”

Stiles nodded. “I like where that idea is going. I’ve trained you well, young padawan.”

Scott scrunched his face confused. “What?”

Stiles facepalmed. “Oh my god, still? Really? Why are we even friends?”

“Spit oath in kindergarten,” Scott nodded seriously. The pack laughed.

“Damn it, spit oath.”

 

So far in a week’s time, they had managed not to be targeted. However, they weren’t any closer to catching the witch. Nor figuring out who she was. And due to the looming threat, Stiles managed not to think about singing or her mom, expertly avoiding Scott's questions about it.

This time the whole pack was watching the lacrosse practice keeping an eye out for the wolves in training and anything out of the ordinary. Nothing happened until they left school grounds. They were heading to the cars, deciding to spend the evening at Stiles’, when Malia growled loudly.

“Malia?” whispered softly Kira. Malia’s eyes flashed.

“She’s trying to get me, but joke’s on the bitch.” She took off on a run. Stiles cursed.

“Follow her!” Scott ordered.

Everybody took off. Allison ran next to Lydia and Derek next to Stiles, while the others caught up with Malia. However, when they reached her, she was huffing and turning her head around, listening closely.

“I lost her.”

“Did you get a scent?” Derek asked.

She shook her head. “I could feel a faint pull towards her location, but it’s gone.”

“It was probably the other end of the spell,” Cora wondered. Lydia nodded. “She must have ended the spell when she realized it wasn’t working on you.”

Isaac’s head snapped up to the left. “She’s targeting me now! This way!” He took off with the pack on his heels. But, again, the witch interrupted the spell. This time faster.

“Let’s spread out,” ordered Scott. “If you find her, howl. Allison with me. Isaac with Lydia. Derek with Stiles.”

They each took different paths. Derek and Stiles went off the far right. They walked fast but cautious. Derek kept a hand out for whenever Stiles inevitably stumbled. Suddenly he picked up a strange scent. He grabbed her hand and trotted up, pulling her along. But just as suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, crouching slightly, ready to pounce. Stiles crashed into his back and grabbed his shoulders tightly.

“What is it?” she whispered. Derek started growling lowly. “Derek?”

Stiles tried to look into the trees with no success for whatever Derek could see. She had no supernatural eyesight. Derek turned slowly towards her, still growling. His eyes were flashing, shifting back and forth between his electrical blue and the endless colors of his human eyes.

“Derek?” She let go of his shoulders and took a step back. Derek followed. She gulped. “Derek.” He stopped. His head turned a little to the side. She held her breath. Derek’s eyes remained human, but the fangs were coming out to play.

“Run.”

Stiles shook her head. “No. Are you crazy?”

“Damn it, Stiles. _Run!_ I’m losing control!”

She shook her head again. Derek pounced against her, pinning her to a tree. It punched her breath away. He growled on her face.

“I’m not leaving you,” she panted.

Besides, Stiles was aware that running from an almost feral werewolf was the worst idea ever. It meant an open door for a chase. And Stiles didn’t doubt Derek’s ability to catch up to her in less than two heartbeats. Moreover, it was a far better option to stay and remind him somehow of his attachment to the pack than to leave him alone to fend for himself against a psycho’s witchcraft. She clutched his shirt and stared up at him defiantly. Derek punched the tree and with his free hand surrounded her waist.

“Fuck…” he trembled with effort and closed his eyes trying to gain his control back. He wasn’t succeeding. “Stiles…” His electrical eyes stared at her in pain, but a second later there was no recognition.

His next growl made Stiles shiver, but she was not afraid. Not of Derek. She was afraid the witch would make Derek do something he’ll forever blame himself for, though. She started talking in order to bring him back.

“I know you’re in there, Derek. She’s trying to steal you away and I won’t let her. We are _pack_. We-”

She gasped. Derek’s hand on her waist turned to claws. Claws that were starting to rip into her. She sucked a shuddering breath. It hurt. She bit her lip until she broke her skin. A small pain to distract from a bigger pain. Stiles grabbed Derek’s head with both hands. He snarled. She pulled him closer, put his head on her neck. His fangs caressed her neck, his nose tickled her. Still, she wasn’t afraid. If anything, she was pissed.

“I am not fucking letting you go, you hear me? We are survivors, Derek. You and I. I will get you through this one way or another. It’s what we do. Save each other’s ass. You-”

She gulped down a wave of pain as his claws got deeper. Stiles needed to remind him of them. The bet came back to her mind. It seemed silly now that she was on the verge of panic every time she thought of singing. Derek needed her. If her voice was something he’d think about, then she’d use it for him every time he needed or asked. She took a big gulp of air and let herself get lost in a song.

Against the Current’s [_Brighter_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRDdK4ByD9w) came to her lips. Soft and firm, her voice made Derek still. His claws stopped advancing. His shoulders stopped shaking. Slowly, with each verse, the tension left him. When she was almost reaching the end of the song, his fangs retreated and his claws disappeared. His nose buried itself deeper in her neck, in her unique scent. By the time he called out her name quietly, she was panting with a turmoil of sensations overwhelming her.

“Stiles?” he repeated surer of himself.

“I’m here, Sourwolf. Just- heads up. Don’t freak out on me, ’kay?” She licked her lips. Her backside felt uncomfortably wet. Derek’s beautiful human eyes found hers. “I’ll be fine, but I might pass out in a second.”

He frowned. His eyes flashed with his next breath, nostrils flaring. The scent of blood reached him. Stiles’ blood. Before he could move to check her wounds or run away, neither of them was sure which one would be, Stiles embraced him strongly.

“No.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “No freaking out, remember? Take me to Deaton’s and don’t move your left hand from my back. Run as fast as you can and I’ll be fine. Do you hear me?” Derek nodded. “Say it, Derek.”

“You’ll be fine.” He picked her up.

“Again.”

“You’ll be fine.” He started running. She sighed. She got him back. “Stiles?”

“Mm? Still here, Sourwolf,” she whispered. Her eyes fluttered shut. Even though he was running supernaturally fast, he wasn’t jostling her.

“Stay awake. Stay with me.”

She giggled. “Done and done.” She opened and closed her hand on his chest. She wasn’t feeling the pain any longer. Maybe it was a bad sign, or maybe Derek was taking her pain away. “You’re comfortable, you know? All warm and firm… and safe…”

“Stiles,” he panted. “Open your eyes.”

She hummed. “In a moment…”

He raced past the tree line with a painful howl. Its rumble reached her bones. She looked up to him as he kicked open the vet’s back door. He walked past Deaton barking an order that moved the druid into action.

“Lay her here. Don’t move your hand until I say so.” Deaton was moving something around. The metal table felt cold, a huge contrast from Derek’s arms. “Stiles?” the druid called.

“Present.” Stiles engaged Derek’s worried eyes. She wasn’t sure he was breathing. She stretched a hand towards his scowl. “One more time, Derek.” He held her hand against his cheek.

“You’ll be fine.”

“She will be. You brought her on time, Derek. Remove your hand.” Derek stared at her wound, unseeing Deaton’s arms working on her.

“Hey,” she called him. Derek snapped his eyes to hers and took her other hand in his bloodied one, stealing the pain away. “Tell me something.”

“Like what?” he glanced at Deaton working, but Stiles’ hand pulled him back to her.

“Anything. Or I’m going to panic. Because Deaton will need a needle. And needles are awful and mean and I hate them with all my being.” She started hyperventilating. It wasn’t helping the blood flowing from her nor letting Deaton work easily.

“Um, when we were little,” Derek cleared his voice, “Laura had me convinced I was a bunny, not a wolf.”

“What?” Stiles smiled. “How so?”

“Well, um,” the tips of his ears blushed a little. “You’ve teased me about my teeth. How do you think they looked when I was about a meter tall?”

“Oh my god,” she laughed without feeling how Deaton injected her with something and started stitching her up. “She totally made you think you were a werebunny, didn’t she?”

Derek smiled with nostalgia. “Yeah. A dark werebunny my mother had accepted into the pack to feed me and grow me until they could eat me up.”

“Well, you certainly look delicious all grown up.” Derek glanced at her chest because of the increase in her heartbeat’s rhythm. Not a lie though. She giggled nervously. “Hey, doc, what you put me on? I’m saying stupid things now.”

“You say stupid things all the time,” Isaac said breathlessly from the door.

Stiles turned her head slightly to them. They were all bunched up there. Scott struggling the most to get through. They looked hilarious. Finally, he knelt next to Derek. Derek tried to release her hand into his hold, but she wouldn’t let him go. Scott touched her shoulder.

“Call her dad.” Lydia stepped out to do so, while the rest shuffled behind Derek and Scott.

“I’m gonna need clothes. There are some in my Jeep.” Cora went to get them. Scott looked worried. She rolled her eyes. “Derek, would you tell Scott my status?”

“She’s going to be fine.”

Scott nodded eagerly. “What happened?”

Derek frowned trying to remember and looked briefly at his bloodied hand, then at her wound almost closed by Deaton. He was mostly sure his claws would have her blood. He felt Stiles bristle.

“Doesn’t matter. Bitch didn’t get what she wanted,” she squeezed Derek’s hand hard.

“All set,” Deaton said putting on the dressing gauze.

Derek’s head snapped to the door and he slipped away from her hold to stand against the wall. Cora tried to approach him, but he glared her off. She rolled her eyes and backed away. Scott helped Stiles sit up at the same time her dad crossed the door. He went straight to her and hugged her. The pack made space for him and left the room, prompted by Scott. Derek didn’t react. He only stared at his hand.

“I’m fine, dad.”

“What happened? Who hurt you?” The sheriff turned to Scott over at the door, who shrugged the answer, then to Derek. Naturally, nothing escapes the sheriff. He noticed vividly Derek’s bloodied hand and clothes. “Derek…” he called with a hand over his gun. Derek didn’t look up, but his shoulders tensed. “who hurt my daughter?”

“Dad-”

The sheriff shushed her, knowing she’d come up with a defense, a plausible truth or an ultimate distraction. He took off his gun and shot Derek. He doubled over with a grunt.

“DAD!” Stiles shrugged off the sheriff and stood in front of his gun, still pointing at Derek. “It wasn’t his fault!” She hit the gun away and went to Derek.

He was breathing with effort and a claw sneaking in to get the bullet out. Cora growled from the door. Scott held her back. Derek let the bullet drop when Stiles reached him. He growled low again.

 _Fuck_ , Stiles thought. He still wasn’t 100% off the spell. “Out! Everybody out of the fucking room! Now!” She growled.

Derek let himself fall to the floor, grabbing his head and breathing heavily. Stiles kneeled in front of him, trying to catch his eyes. They were flashing sporadically again.

“Stiles, you too,” his dad tried to pull her away, but she shook him off.

“No. I can’t believe you shot him! The bitch’s spell is still at work. I can calm him down, bring him back. So, get out, dad! Leave us alone in here!” Scott dragged her dad away and closed the door. The sheriff could still see from the small window into the room.

“Derek, look at me.”

He shook his head. “No. Leave. I’ll hurt you again.”

“I’m not leaving you, ever. You know that. And you won’t hurt me. She hurt me, not you. It wasn’t your fault.” She took his hands in hers, making him look at her.

“I can smell your blood,” he glared.

She huffed and stood up. His eyes tracked her every move. She took off her plaid first. Then went her tank top, and last her jeans with a bit of a grunt. She threw them to the other side of the room and grabbed some cleaning towels. She kneeled again between his legs. She took his hands and scrubbed them off with the cleaning towels, and threw that away too.

“There.” He still shook his head and knocked it against the wall hard. Stiles hugged him. “Focus on me, okay? My scent. That helped before. That and… my singing.”

“You chose then to pay me our bet?” He huffed and circled her waist careful of her stitches. “You’re insane.”

She smiled and leaned back into his arms. “Well, Derek, maybe you just… _make me feel like a dangerous woman. Something about you, makes me wanna do things that I shouldn’t_ ,” she sang.

Derek chuckled. His eyes remained human. His body stopped trembling under the forced shift. His posture was relaxed. He seemed settled once more within his own skin. Suddenly, he blushed.

“What?” Stiles turned her head to the side, awfully similar to the wolves, fascinated by Derek Hale blushing.

He cleared his throat. “You’re in underwear and your father is outside that door.”

Stiles too turned bright red. Derek noticed it went down to her chest. He let her go for a moment and shook his leather jacket off. He covered her with it. She bit her lip trying not to smile and put it on correctly. He helped her stand up.

“You okay?” she tightened her hold on his arms a moment. He nodded doing a quick revision of himself. She exposed his abdomen. There was a blood stain there and nothing more. He’d already healed the gunshot. “He’s eating nothing but salad for a month,” she frowned.

“He was only protecting you.”

“More like avenging. And I don’t need anyone protecting me from you.”

Derek opened the door to the pack. Cora gave Stiles her clothes. She dressed hiding from the pack’s sight, but Derek could still see her back with a glance. The sheriff approached him.

“I’m sorry for shooting you. I acted on fatherly instincts.”

Derek shook the sheriff’s extended hand. “Don’t worry, sir. I’m already healed.”

“Now, who is this witch?” He crossed his arms.

“Someone we’ll happily off from this world,” Stiles came back from dressing with a frown, still wearing Derek’s jacket. “And don’t think that apology is saving you from the rabbit food.” The sheriff sighed accepting his near future.

“Anchor finally settled, Derek?” asked Deaton giving Stiles a bag with her clothes. Derek cleared his throat and glanced at Stiles for a supernatural second. The sheriff didn’t miss it.

Derek nodded. “It won’t be a problem now.”

 

A couple of days later, Melissa took off her stitches. And thanked every deity for that because they itched as hell. Every pack member kept hitting her hands away from them. Except for Derek. He had been with her the bare minimum when there were at least three other pack members around. Now that she was almost done scaring over, she was going to have words with him. He was probably brooding and having a guilt trip at his place. Malia and Kira accompanied her to the loft, but as soon as she let herself in, they left. The loft was quiet, but there was a heavenly smell coming from the kitchen. It damped her irritated mood.

Derek’s eyes met hers for a moment and went back to focusing on whatever it was on the stove. After appreciating the view of Derek frowning at the stove and the peaceful glint in his eyes, Stiles came closer.

“What’s that? Smells awesome.”

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” Derek whispered, then turned to her with a wooden spoon in hand. He blew on it a second and offered it to her. “Taste it.”

Stiles gladly did. She grabbed his wrist to steady the spoon. It was delicious. She let out a happy moan. She closed her eyes and let his wrist go. “Oh my god, Derek. It’s fantastic!” He shrugged, yet the tips of his ears were a little pinked, she noticed. “Say it’s for me, please?”

He let a small grin show. “Yeah, it is. You did your part of the debt, so I figured I should do mine.”

“How did you know I was coming today?” She tried to settle on a bench next to the counter, she winced.

Derek turned to her, a worry in his eyebrows. “I just know you. Are you okay?” His hands hovered near her healing wound.

“Yeah, I’m fine. The scar just pulled a bit.” His eyebrows were still worried. She rolled her eyes and turned around. She raised her shirt to her mid-back, showing him the scars. “See? It’s almost gone and soon won’t be a mark. I heal like you, just slower.”

The touch of his hot fingers made her jump. Her heartbeat accelerated and a blush came to her cheekbones. “Does it hurt?” he whispered looking up from her wounds to the side of her face. She shook her head. Some hairs from her bun got loose.

“No. Your hands are warm, I wasn’t expecting that,” she bit her lip and let her shirt fall. Derek’s hand was still on her waist, over the scars, but his eyes met hers.

Stiles lost herself in his eyes and slowly turned to face him. There was concern, care for pack, but there was something more pulling her in. His eyes flashed when she settled her hands on his chest, drawing them up to his neck. Yet what they both were falling into was interrupted by a cooking timer. Both of them jumped this time around.

Derek let go of her and went to turn off the stove. Stiles rubbed her neck and looked somewhere else biting her lip. Her blush intensified once she thought Derek seemed about to kiss her.

He pulled her back to reality with a touch on her arm, then nodded to the food on the counter. “Time to eat.”

She gave him a bright smile and went to dig in. The silence was only broken by her little sounds of enjoyment and Derek’s chuckles. She kicked him without strength and he trapped her feet with his legs. It was comfortable, awfully domestic and nice. Maybe he hadn’t kissed her, but every look he gave her promised to do what was interrupted. Maybe more. It made her eat faster.

Once they were both done, she offered to do the dishes and picked up his plate. He cooked, so she’d clean. It was only fair. She had put the dishes down on the sink when his hands turned her around and pinned her against it. She gasped and looked up. His eyes now carried hunger of a different kind. He wanted her and cared for her.

His lips were about to touch hers when her cell phone rang. She groaned and thumped her head on his shoulder. He growled his annoyance in her neck. She shivered as he nipped her, though her ringtone was insistent.

“I’m gonna kill whoever’s on the other side of that call,” she grumbled taking out her phone.

“I’ll help you hide the body,” he muttered into her hair. She laughed. However, the laughter died as she answered and Scott’s frenetic voice came through.

“Witch near the preserve! Come here now! We have her almost surrounded.” He hung up. Derek and Stiles were already running out the door. Oh, indeed Stiles was killing that witch at the other side of the phone.

 

When they got there, the witch had cocooned herself. The pack was keeping a close eye on it. Claws were out and waiting. Derek and Stiles joined the circle. She stood near Lydia with her bat infused with mountain ash, while Derek went to stand next to Scott on the other side of the cocoon.

As soon as they took their place, Lydia directed her scream to the cocoon. It shattered. From it emerged the angry witch. She had messy brown hair and terrifying pale eyes. She eyed them all with her twisted figure but focused on Stiles.

“You,” she hissed. “You broke them both out of my spell. You do not deserve to breathe. How dare you haul what’s mine to take?”

Stiles scowled and corrected the grip on her bat. The wolves, coyote, and kitsune growled. “Easy, bitch. They are not _yours_. They are _my_ pack.”

Something snapped from the witch, pushing all of them back. In a blink, she had Stiles by the throat against a tree. The surprise and lack of air made Stiles drop her bat. She cursed. The witch had put on some barrier-like breeze around them that prevented the others from approaching. Derek was hitting it harder than the rest, creating cracks in it.

Stiles tried to breathe in and cursed again. It was laughable that the witch with magic was killing her via asphyxiation. But Stiles was not going to die without a struggle, much less without having kissed Derek at least a thousand times over and done far more hotter shenanigans. She reached for her bat. Too far. Tried to kick her, she evaded. Then she felt a thick twig next to her thigh. With all her leaving strength, she broke it and buried it deep in the witch’s side.

The witch screamed in pain and dropped her, then reached to pull the twig out. She was about to pounce on her again when Lydia’s scream pushed her back into Derek’s waiting claws. He ripped into her back with brutality and tore her throat out. Scott too clawed her twice.

While Kira and Allison prepared to set her on fire, Derek advanced on a coughing Stiles. He pulled her up and hugged her. He nuzzled her hair and her neck, then pulled back to kiss her. Stiles’ little chant of “I’m okay, Derek” was engulfed by his lips. She moaned her surprise and held on tight to him.

When the putrid smell of the witch burning reached them, Derek rubbed their noses together. “Don’t ever leave me,” he whispered. “I can’t lose you, not you.”

Stiles kissed him once more, pouring her hidden feelings into him. “Never. I’m with you all the way. You’d never get rid of me.”


End file.
